


Just Like in the Animes

by gonta



Category: Dangan Ronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Backstory, Gen, headcanon heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:29:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonta/pseuds/gonta
Summary: Tsumugi Shirogane stays up all night working, barely sleeping. It's not just for her sake, but for that of her childhood friend....Is it worth it, though?[WRITTEN BEFORE DRV3'S RELEASE, CONTAINS MANY INACCURACIES]





	

**Author's Note:**

> The third (and likely last) speculative backstory fic I've written! (I've written ones for Hoshi and Shinguuji, if you wanna check them out)  
> I took this one on as a challenge because Tsumugi never really struck me as the kind of person to have an interesting backstory. So I fixated on one aspect of her character and tried to reason why she was like that.  
> This one's a LOT less angsty than the last two, admittedly, but I hope you enjoy anyway  
> (Note: this was posted before the release of drv3, and will likely not be accurate as a result)

Like many great anime heroines before you, you lead a secret double life. By day, you are Tsumugi Shirogane, honors student. But by night, you're a magical girl~!

Okay, you're not really a magical girl. But that doesn't mean you can't pretend to be one, as you watch them fighting against evil forces on the tiny TV your mom bought for the living room. You like to get lost in anime - it's a lot more exciting than your ordinary, boring life. And besides, it's not like you're a shut-in or anything. 

You live in a tiny apartment with your mom, who works doing laundry and tailoring work for people in your building and around town. It's not a bad life, really. You're far from wealthy, but your mother loves you and you're doing especially well in school, so you can't ask for much else. 

...Though you constantly look out for strange-looking boys, animals that look like they could talk, and places that could be portals to other world as you walk to and from school. You can always hope, after all. 

 

You have a friend. Only one friend, but it's enough because you're such good friends that you don't need any others. Her name is Minako, and you met at a local bookstore a few years ago. You were both doing the same thing that many a girl your age has done: attempting to read an entire series for free by reading it all at the bookstore. It was some entry-level shoujo manga, but you were both reading the same series. The moment you locked eyes you knew that you were destined to be friends. 

You hadn’t had any friends before, and it seemed as though she had only had a few. You sat together at lunch, and you went to movies together, and you had sleepovers at Minako’s house. Only Minako’s house, because her house was big. 

You don’t know what her parents did for a living, but it was more than just tailoring. 

The two of you talk, sometimes, about what you want to do when you grew up. She always says that she wants to be a model. “Gyarus… they’re so pretty! Right, Shirogane-chan?” You nod, and make a mental note to see if there were any animes about gyarus. “What do you want to be, then?” she asks, cocking her head to the side in an expression of curiosity.

You ponder for a moment. You’ve never really thought about it before. Your grades are good, but being something like a doctor or lawyer doesn’t appeal to you. If you really had to choose what you’d do for the rest of your life, you would be a professional manga-reader, or anime-watcher!

...Those aren’t real jobs, though.

“Earth to Shirogane-chan?” She snaps her fingers near your face, and you snap out of your stupor. This happens more than you care to admit, unfortunately.

“I dunno. Maybe…” You put a finger on your chin pensively. “A mangaka?” 

“Oh!” This idea seems to excite her, and you glow with pride. “Maybe when you’re a famous mangaka and I’m a famous model, I can cosplay your characters!”   
Huh?   
Confused, you look over at her from where you’re sitting on top of your sleeping bag. “You can what?” 

She looks at you kind of funny, but only for a moment. “Cosplaying. It’s when you dress up as an anime character, y’know? It’s getting really popular nowadays.” She sighs. “I’d give anything to be a famous cosplayer…”

Minako prattles on.

You think.

And you keep thinking. 

This goes on for a while. Minako gets tired of your trance and eventually just goes to bed. 

It’s 1:18 in the morning when you’ve fully formulated your plan.

 

When you get home, you ask your mother if she can teach you how to sew. She seems pretty surprised - she mentions something about her not wanting you to become a laundress like her - but she eventually caves. You watch with a great intensity as she shows you how to thread a needle and stitch a line.    
Almost effortlessly, you match her movements. 

By the end of a week, you’re an even better tailor than she is. You make her an ugly sweater as your first project, and she laughs and pulls you in for a hug. 

You’re honestly surprised by how easy it was: has your mother really been doing this her whole life? If it was this simple, why didn’t everyone learn?

The answer, you find out later, is talent.

But that’s for later.

Much later.

You stay up late that night, browsing the internet until you find what you’re looking for.

 

The next day, when you sit down at the lunch table across from Minako, you have a certain determination in your eyes. With all the fury of a thousand punches (or just one, you guess), you slam a flyer down on the table and push it at her.

She picks it up, her eyes scanning the rows of text and images before she meets your eyes. “An anime convention?” 

“Exactly!” You push your glasses up on the bridge of your nose, smiling. “Minako-chan, we’re going to cosplay. You and me!”

She looks excited at the proposition, but then frowns. “But… I don’t know how to sew, or anything.”

“But  _ I _ do! Come on, Minako-chan. You said you wanted to be a cosplayer. This is our chance!” 

“Well…” She looks down at the floor, then back up at you. “Let me ask my dad.”

You feel a sense of pride rush over you. This is gonna be good.

 

The weeks leading up to the convention are a rush of activity. You meet with Minako at her house on many an afternoon, trying to decide what you’ll cosplay. You eventually settle on some simple  _ Sailor Moon _ cosplays: Usagi for her, Rei for you. She insists on being Usagi, but you’re so happy to be doing this with her that you don’t object. 

You start working like crazy. When you’re not at school or doing homework, you’re sewing or making props. Even your mom gets invested in it, and she helps you out quite a bit. 

Minako’s dad (who said yes, by the way) offers to pay for the materials and tickets. You’re positively euphoric. 

You can’t sleep the night before, but it’s because you’re so excited.

 

The day comes, at long last. The two of you change into your costumes, and Minako helps you with your hair. The whole car ride there, neither of you will shut up. You’re pretty sure it’s annoying her dad, but if he  _ is _ annoyed, he doesn’t show it.

Your costumes are a hit at the convention: older, more experienced cosplayers fawn over you. You’re probably the youngest people here, and that’s cute, or something. It makes you feel proud in a way that school never did. 

At the end of the day, you and her pile into the car, laden with merchandise and the contact information of other cosplayers. You’re positively exhausted, but you can tell that you and her are thinking the same thing.

“Let’s do that again!” 

 

Over time, the two of you work as a team. You realize that you actually really don’t like wearing the costumes that much, so you just make them and she models them. Minako gets most of the attention from that point on, but you don’t mind, because she’s your friend. 

Both of your names start spreading online, so you make a bit of a social media presence for yourself. People online seem to really care about your work!

It’s getting difficult to balance schoolwork and cosplay, but you try your hardest. Sometimes, you don’t sleep. 

But you like making the costumes, and Minako seems to be having fun.

...Sometimes, though, she gives you weird looks. But you try not to think about that.

 

At one particular convention, you’re watching Minako do her thing when you’re approached by a man in a suit. He asks if you’re Tsumugi Shirogane, and you nod. The man explains that he’s from a corporation. It has kind of a generic name that you forget about quickly, but they want to sponsor your cosplays. Ecstatically, you accept their offer. You notice Minako give you a wary glance from the photo shoot she’s doing.

Several large stacks of paper later, you’re a corporately sponsored designer. Your mother hugs you and says that she’s proud of you, and you couldn’t be happier.

 

It doesn’t last.

There’s trouble in paradise.

Minako’s weird looks have gotten more frequent, and she’s started to hang out with other girls that don’t like manga as much as you do. She does her makeup more now, and seems to have a lot of excuses when you ask her about cons. One time, you agree to do a certain one. On the day of, she calls in sick and you have to wear the costume yourself. You still have a good time at the convention, but when you get home you see that she’s posted pictures online of her hanging out with her other friends.

She wasn’t sick.

You have other friends by this point, too, but none as good as her. You don’t understand. Are you doing something wrong? There has to be something you’re not doing right, but what is it? 

At this point, you’re lucky if you get two hours of sleep a night.

You’re doing this not just for yourself, but for her. That’s what you tell yourself.

 

It all comes crashing down one day. 

She approaches you in school. It’s been a few years since that fateful sleepover. Her skirt is shorter now, and her hair impeccably styled. She sits down at the lunch table where you usually sit alone. Your face brightens at first, but you can tell from her expression that she’s not here to reminisce about how things used to be.

“So…” she drums her manicured nails on the table. “I got a modeling contract. I’m a gyaru now.”

You smile, being the supportive friend you are. “That’s great, Minako-chan! I always knew you c-”

“I’m not doing the cosplay thing anymore.”

Your face falls.

“You… what?”

“I said it. I’m not doing cosplays anymore. I’m too old for that, Shirogane-chan.”

“But… there are older people who cosplay! You’re just a teenager, anyway, I’ve met people into their thirties wh-”

She looks less than pleased now. “Shirogane-chan, quit it. You always do this.”

“I… do what, exactly?”

“You’re stuck in your own little world all the time. Let’s face it, you’re still into magical girls. We’re going into high school, Shirogane-chan. You have to grow up sometime.”

You can feel your face flushing red with anger. “I  _ am _ growing up! I have a job, now!”

“Oh, yeah. Your corporate sponsored  _ shit _ . All they’re doing is fuelling your fantasies. The real world isn’t like an anime, you know.”

“Y-you…” You’re shaking at this point. “G-go and be a model without me, then! See if I care!”   
She walks off.

You do care.

You spend the rest of lunch period crying in the bathroom. 

That night, you sleep for 8 hours.

 

You tell your mother what happened, and she lets you stay home for a few days. You don’t do anything during this time. You’re tempted to watch anime or something, but Minako’s words still tug at your throat, and you just sit there. 

After a week or so, you begin to accept cosplay commissions again. You actually have to hire models now. Before, the corporation would take care of that. But you insist on having a part in the selection process.

You want models who actually care.

Models who aren’t like Minako.

Your cosplays become more popular, but you also gain a reputation. A reputation for being picky with models. But you don’t care. 

You’re not going to make the same mistake again.

 

A strange letter comes in the mail one day. You open it in front of your mother. 

You’ve been accepted to the Gifted Program. You are now the Super High School Level Cosplayer. She hugs you and cries, and you can’t help but cry, too. But for a different reason.

You don’t like wearing cosplays yourself. You feel like you don’t deserve it. 

Still, you accept. And you start to feel better about yourself. Feeling depressed, like you did… it’s what Minako probably wanted. And you don’t want to give her anything she wants anymore. You already gave her her shitty modeling career for all those years. 

All you can do is turn the other cheek. 

 

You’re set to depart on a trip, to a new school. Your mother drives you and your bags to the train station. She says she knows you’ll make her proud, and you agree. 

As you start to head to the train to board it, but the familiar click-clack of heels approaches.

You freeze.

Behind you, Minako folds her hands. “Um… Hi, Shirogane-san.”

“Hi.” 

“Listen, um… wow, the Gifted Program, huh? That’s like, pretty great.”

You can’t help but allow yourself a little smile. “Thank you, Minako-san,” you say, switching your default honorific to match hers. You can’t tell if she notices, but her gaze shifts.

You’ve seen enough anime to know what’s coming. The apology. This is the perfect timing for it, anyway. It couldn’t be better scripted.

“So… I just wanted to… before you left…”

“Eh? What is it, Minako-san?”

“Well… I lost my modeling job. And I was wondering… do you think I can model for you again? I mean, modeling for the Super High School Level Cosplayer, it-”

Your face falls. Oh. Of course it couldn’t work out that way.

But you’re prepared for this. You don’t even turn around to face her. “If you think that you can come crawling back to me like that, then maybe it’s  _ you _ who’s living in her own little world, Minako-chan.”

The train whistle blows one long, clear note. You mutter a quick “Gotta go!” and dash onto the train with your luggage.

Behind you, you can hear Minako calling your name. But you don’t look back.

A new beginning awaits you. A new school, with a whole new cast of characters that you might even be able to call your friends.

Man, it’s just like an anime. 


End file.
